


True Blue

by divapilot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divapilot/pseuds/divapilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amid the chaos of a post-Yuuzhan Vong galaxy, a young woman yearns to define herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted. Written as a challenge response.

The crowded transport lurched suddenly, and the girl grabbed the nearby handrail to steady herself. Around her, various beings – some in families, most alone – jostled and resettled themselves as the craft began its descent into the atmosphere of Irylia. The small, nondescript planet, a former Imperial shipyard, had become a makeshift interchange station for the hundreds of vessels that had frantically evaded the Vong invasion; its existing infrastructure reconfigured to service roughshod private vessels instead of the elegant destroyers and cruisers of the Emperor’s days. Thousands of people crossed the utilitarian durasteel floors every day. She was sure she would not be noticed among them.

The transport landed clumsily, slid into docking position, and shuddered to a halt. With a creak and a gasp, the transport doors slowly opened. The girl took her single bag and slung it across her brown jacket. She was nineteen years old, but she carried herself with confidence beyond her years. That was not uncommon in the post-invasion galaxy. Those who had survived had endured a lifetime of trauma and loss, and the girl was not immune to this.

She surreptitiously looked at the news screens to see if there were any broadcasts that she needed to note. Satisfied that the holonews agencies were, as usual, not reporting anything of merit, she pulled her hood forward and, head down, edged her way towards the security station. To her quiet relief, a quick scan of her forged documents triggered no alarms. She tucked the identicard back in her bag and entered the chilly rain of the street level.

Smells assailed her – the oily mechanics of the spaceport, rough scents of the beings who walked past, the faint grease of something cooking nearby. Above, speeders interlaced in their assigned lanes, creating a checkerboard of the sky. She paused to get her bearings, and in that moment, a passerby bumped into her, and she stumbled onto the street just as a landspeeder tore around the corner. The driver, a Devaronian man, shrieked at the girl as the vehicle came dangerously close to her. The girl instinctively put her hands out against the vehicle, and was rewarded with a sharp crack and a painful impact to her wrist. Grimacing in pain, she held the injured wrist close to her chest. She blinked furiously through the downpour and spun around, cursing the Devaronian as he careened down the narrow road.

The girl hunched over in pain and disbelief that one random moment could be so disastrous. No, she thought, I don’t have the slightest danger sense at all. The wrist was already swelling and she gritted her teeth against the pain. She hadn’t planned on what to do if she had an injury. Think, think. There had to be a medic somewhere. Holding her tracker precariously in her one good hand, she scanned it through eyes wet with rain and held-back tears. There was a healer’s office a short walk away. But could she risk it? A cursory scan of her would surely reveal the lie that her identicard told – and reveal where she was. 

There had to be a second plan. Where else could she get medical help without arousing suspicions? She raised her head and peered through the rain at the ships docked at the loading bay. She hadn’t planned on returning to open space so very soon, but circumstances called for improvisation. Her father had told her tales of his quick escapes by hiding in plain sight or by fading into those things that people took for granted. Here, that meant blending in with the ships. With this in mind, she made her way to the larger of the two vessels docked at Bay 34. Big ships needed big crews, she reasoned, and she was a competent worker. Where there were ships, there were workers, and where there were workers there would be an infirmary. She could put in her time, then as soon as she could get this bone knitted, she could be on her way.

Boxes and crates of all types were being loaded onto the cargo transfer droid as she neared the rear of the ship. A human man was checking the cargo and motioning to the droids, indicating where they should stow the items. She ducked under the shelter of an awning and approached him with what she hoped was a confident, unhurried air. “I’m looking for a job,” she announced.

The man looked up from his clipboard, annoyed at the interruption. “Don’t got any work available.” 

“Come on, you have something. I’m a good mechanic. I used to help my dad keep his old piece of junk flying all the time.”

“Hold on.” The man strode over to the cargo droid and began to yell at it in Huttese. The girl followed him, persistent. “You won’t be sorry,” she called after him. “I swear, I can fix anything. I can be really useful.”

The man turned back to her. “Look, kid, there isn’t any work here for you, and don’t think I don’t see you’re hurt. If you’re looking for any kind of work and you can’t even move your arm, then you’re running from something and we don’t need no more trouble than we already got.” He switched off his device and pointed to the opposite side of the street with his stylus. “You gotta go. I hope you get something, kid, but it ain’t gonna be here.”

The girl sighed, nodded slowly, then turned to leave, heading in the direction the man had indicated. Her wrist was swelling worse and the pain began radiating up her arm. All right, maybe it was time for a third plan. She glanced through the gray murk of the rain and spotted a group of people, mostly human, beginning to assemble near the passenger entrance of the docking bay. The girl moved toward the back of the crowd, in the relative dryness of an overhang. She pulled off the damp hood of her jacket with her good hand and sat and waited. Eventually the group grew to about sixty people, of all ages and species. They were clearly exhausted and hungry; tired refugees from all over the galaxy, thrown together by chance at this bay on their next step to a settlement. 

A bell chimed and the sodden group picked up what few belongings they still had and began to shuffle toward the entrance. The girl pulled her hood back on and quietly slipped in among them. She slowly moved along with the crowd, glancing to either side of her to see any reactions of those around her, but they were preoccupied with their own affairs. With growing despair she realized that each person was holding a passcard -- their boarding ticket. Just a small green pass that she didn’t have. The girl began to formulate some way she could talk her way past the ticket taker. As long as there was an actual person and not some stuffy protocol droid, she might be able to charm him or her into letting her on board. 

Her hopes dimmed when she saw the droid at the entrance. One after another, the passengers presented their green passcards for the droid’s approval. She was actually considering hiding behind one of the larger beings when she felt a hand at her elbow. Turning sharply toward her right at the intrusion, she saw a young human glance conspiratorially at her from under his rain-soaked hood. “Hang on,” he said quietly.

They reached the front of the line. The droid turned to the man, who raised his passcard for scanning. His was similar to the others’ except for a black stripe on the bottom. “Welcome aboard, Doc,” the droid said. “Your quarters are ready for you.”

“Thanks, Entoo-ell,” he said. Gesturing to the girl, he continued. “This is my patient. She’s with me.” 

The droid turned to her. “Welcome aboard, Patient of Doc.” The droid inserted the man’s passcard into a reader and returned it.

The man pocketed the passcard, then smiled at her reassuringly and escorted her into the narrow corridor. She leaned back against the wall, relief rippling off of her, grateful to be out of the rain and on the move again. Her wrist throbbed with pain.

He cautiously steered her toward the rear of the ship, navigating through numbed refugees and their wailing children. “The way I figure, there’s never an accurate count on these refugee transfer ships. What’s one more person aboard?” He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward her arm. “You really should get that taken care of.”

The girl smiled weakly. “Know any good healers?” A steady line of passengers shuffled past them, pushing their way down the hallway. Each passenger who bumped into her shot a spark of pain ripping up her arm, and she cringed despite her best effort to maintain a stoic appearance.

He grew serious. “I’ll be by to check in on the passengers in about half an hour. I can take care of it then. Can you hang on that long?” He reached up and pulled the hood off his head, revealing a delicate set of tattoos on his forehead and long, straight blue hair that fell in damp rivulets down his back. 

The girl nodded. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you, Doc,” she said.

He laughed quietly and shook his head. “Not doc yet. Just a medical student. But I’m hoping to finish my training when everything gets stabilized and I can go back home to Baroli. Everyone here just calls me Blue.” 

“Well then, thank you, Blue,” she said, a small smile tracing her lips. She could not help but notice how his dark indigo eyes shone when he smiled. Hastily, as if to change the subject, he pointed down the corridor. “So, um, you can find a place to sleep down there if you don’t mind sharing with someone. There are some basic supplies; blankets, cleaning cloths, that sort of thing.” 

She had turned to go when she heard him calling behind her. “You got a name, Patient of Doc?”

She turned around again to see him standing in the corridor, watching her, his arms folded across his black jacket and head tilted inquisitively to one side. “Bree,” she called back. Then she quickly turned around to continue her search for an open area to settle in.

She realized with a start that she hadn’t told him the name printed on her false identicard – and although Bree wasn’t her actual name it was close enough. Close enough to the name she sought to escape, the name that chained her to a world of responsibilities and expectations that she had never had a choice about accepting. She was determined that for once in her life she was going to stand on her own two feet and do things her way. She had made it this far, and once she got this medical help, she would be on her way again. She would succeed or fail based on her skills and merits alone. She was not going to shoulder the burden of being Breha Amidala Solo, missing daughter of Rebel hero Han Solo and the former Princess Leia of Alderaan, anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Bree took a blanket from the shelf and walked into a large open space crowded with refugees from various places. The tired group began to divide the cargo hold into individual areas, parents comforted sniffling babies, and children started exploring as far as they dared. Bree spotted an open area toward the center, where a woman and a young girl were putting down their bundles. The child clung to the mother’s skirts with one hand while clutching a worn-out stuffed whiskerkit toy in the other.

Bree approached them cautiously. “Would it be all right if I shared with you?” she asked.

The woman looked up, then quickly assessed Bree. “Yes, I don’t mind.” She sat down on a blanket, then her child crawled on her lap. Bree smiled at the little girl, who buried her head in her mother’s dress. 

“I’m Alta, this is my daughter Tara. We left Marois station almost a year ago when the Vong were coming,” the woman said. “Where are you from?”

Bree nodded knowingly. Marois station, a communications outpost, had been completely destroyed. “Coruscant,” she said. 

Alta smiled sympathetically. “I thought I heard the accent. There’s a lot of displaced Coruscanti here.” Alta raised her eyebrows as she watched Bree spread out her blanket with her one good arm. “You’re in luck,” she said, gesturing to Bree’s injured wrist. “This ship has medic aboard. Not every refugee ship has such a luxury.”

A voice suddenly came over the speaker and they turned instinctively toward the sound. A human man that Bree had not seen before began to speak. “Listen up. I’m only gonna do this once. When I get to you, hold out your arm. If you have a scanner, I’m gonna scan it. If you don’t have a scanner, you’re gonna get one and I’m gonna scan that. You’re only here because the government pays us per scanned refuge, so if you make trouble, then you aren’t worth my time and you’re gone. I don’t care if I throw you out the airlock to do it.” With that, he tossed the speaker to the side and took out a hand-held device.

The man began to move about the cargo area, stopping at each person. Alta sighed, then rolled up her sleeve. The little girl whimpered as her mother then rolled up the child’s sleeve too. “You may as well get ready for it,” Alta said to Bree.

“I haven’t got a scanner,” Bree said. 

“Oh.” Alta paused with concern, then said reassuringly, “Well, he’ll give you one then. Don’t worry, it’s over quickly.” She paused before adding, “You’ve never been on a refugee ship before, then?”

“No,” Bree admitted. “What’s the usual procedure?”

“They will keep the lights on low all night, if you’re worried about that. You learn to sleep though the light.” She shifted the drowsy child on her lap. “They’ll have some kind of food for us in the first light. Figure on two good meals a day. Usually they refuel half-way through the trip and they’ll make a last stop for a resupply, but we don’t get off the ship. It’s a slow process, so the whole trip should last about five weeks. Don’t worry, you’ll get in before your transit card expires.”

Bree nodded. “What happens when we finally get to the displaced persons camp on Tanis?”

“Most people go right to the citizens register to see if anyone they know is there. If you know someone, you can stay with them. If not, you have a month to rest and then you have to go. My husband and I, well, we got separated and I’ve been looking for him for months. Tara and I have been to five camps already. I keep hoping we’ll find him soon.”

Bree was about to ask another question when suddenly there was a commotion. The man who had made the earlier announcement was standing over a young Twi’lek teenager, holding the youth’s arm in his burly grip. The boy tried to pull away, but the man held him tightly. With his free hand, the man raised a metal tube with a large point on the end. The man ignored the boy’s frantic shrieks and jabbed the point into his arm, then, slowly, drew it out again. The boy whimpered as the man wiped the blood off the device and put it back in his case. Bree felt a chill go through her as she unconsciously rubbed her unmarked arm.

Alta noticed her concern, then scanned the room. “There’s the ship’s medic,” she said, pointing to the far end of the room. “Go get your arm fixed, and ask him to set you up with a scanner. If you’re lucky, he’ll be gentle and he’ll use a clean inserter and some numbing solution.”

Bree looked in the direction where Alta was pointing and saw Blue, crouching next to an old man as he efficiently went through his examination. Bree got up and made her way across the crowded area toward him. 

He looked up as she approached, and his face broke into a bright smile. Quickly, he patted the man on the back and stood up. “Hey,” he said. “Glad I saw you. I figured you’d need an analgesic.” He reached into his backpack and handed her a small packet, which she accepted with her left hand and then popped into her mouth. Instantly the packet dissolved and the pain medication began to take effect. “Let me take a look at that wrist,” he said.

Gingerly, she extended her right arm. She still cringed even though his grip was gentle as he scanned it with a device attached to his datapad. “Yeah, you have a fracture here. I thought you might. Don’t worry, I can fix it.” He put down the datapad and reached into his backpack again. Bree crinkled her nose at the sour aroma of bacta, and he smiled at her as he began to wrap the wrist in stiff medi-tape. “What happened to you, anyway?” he asked lightly.

“A speeder came out of nowhere and clipped me. Then the driver swore at me and kept on going.”

“Be careful around speeders. You can get badly hurt.” Blue snapped the clips on the tape shut to immobilize the wrist. “There. All set. Anything else you need?”

Bree bit her lip. “I don’t have a scanner. That guy over there seems pretty intense. Can you give me one?”

Blue looked over her shoulder to the human man who was brusquely scanning the refugees, and his expression hardened. “Sure.” He crouched down and rummaged through his backpack. A moment later he returned with a device similar to the one the other man had. He inserted a small tracker into it and waited for the light to turn green. Holding it tucked beneath his arm, he then rolled up the sleeve of her jacket. He held her left arm steady with one hand while he wiped the area with a numbing solution. “Hang tight. This might hurt,” he warned. Bree closed her eyes and felt a sharp bite on her forearm. Then the numbing solution dulled the pain into a soreness. 

She opened her eyes to see Blue staring intently at her. “Are you all right?” he asked, his hand on her shoulder. 

Bree nodded. “I seem to keep thanking you,” she said. 

Blue waved his hand dismissively. “No thanks needed. That’s my job.” He closed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. They stood there for a moment before he spoke again. “Would you mind if – I mean, would it be okay if I came back later? To check on your wrist, I mean.”

“Sure. I’d like that.” 

“Good. Well, I’ll see you later, then.” Blue smiled and gave a quick nod before going back to the next examination. Bree lowered her head, smiling to herself, and made her way back to the area she shared with Alta. She sat quietly for a few moments next to Alta and the now-sleeping Tara, then stole a glance at him. He was speaking with another refugee, his long blue hair tied neatly to hang down to his mid-back. 

A deep voice jolted her. “Arms out,” the man’s voice commanded. Bree turned to see the man who had made the announcement earlier. He roughly grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her feet, then scanned the device that Blue had implanted. He checked the datapad and scowled. “This scanner’s new,” he said, raising his voice. “Where’d you get this? Did Blue give you this?” The man glowered at the Barolian medic, who, distracted from his patient by the noise, rose and began to advance toward them.

The man shoved Bree as Blue came closer. “This your new stray, Doc?” he jeered.

“Leave her alone, Wells,” Blue said, a note of warning in his voice.

The rough man, Wells, smirked. “It is, isn’t it. At least this one’s pretty.” 

Wells reached to touch Bree’s face, but Bree sharply knocked the man’s hand away while Blue angled himself to stand between Wells and Bree, standing toe-to-toe with the larger man. “Not here,” Blue said. “You got a problem with me, you don’t bring it here.” Wells glared at him, ignoring Bree, then turned abruptly and left the room.  
Blue watched him leave, then exhaled. He turned to Bree. “I’m sorry for that. Wells had no right to try to touch you.” He rubbed the side of his face tiredly. Finally, he spoke. “It’ll be a while before I finish all the exams, then I have reports to file. But I promise I’ll be back to check on you. Is that okay?”

Bree nodded, and Blue seemed relieved. They said their goodbyes, and Bree sat down on the blanket beside Alta and her daughter. Blue had been exceptionally kind to her, and she knew she owed him a debt for his medical attentions. She glanced at him again. For some reason, she felt compelled to see him, to register where he was, to watch him as he tended to the others. Bree scoffed at herself. 

With a determined motion, she redirected her attention to her immediate surroundings. She looked at the neatly wrapped wrist that had brought her here in search of medical care. So much for a quick solution to her problem, she thought. It would be a month before they docked again. She had better learn to fit in to this new life as a refugee as quickly as she could.


	3. Chapter 3

Leia came home from a sparring session at the temple to find her husband staring intently at a viewscreen. Whether it was due to her rapidly sharpening Jedi skills or the fact that they had been married for decades, she immediately sensed unease in him. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Han leaned back in his chair, still looking at the screen. “When was the last time we got a message from Bree?” he asked. 

She took off her jacket and came closer, looking over her husband’s shoulder. An image of their younger daughter was playing silently on the screen. “I don’t know. A week ago? She said classes were going well, didn’t she?”

Han leaned in and pulled up three screens simultaneously, each showing a transmission from Bree that was taken in her university room. “What do you notice?” he asked her.

Leia peered intently at the screens, puzzled. Eventually her eyes focused on the desk behind Bree. “It’s the same desk in all three comms,” she said.

“You got it. Bree is wearing different clothes, the time of day is different, even her hairstyle is different. But the desk is exactly the same. Same styluses in the same place. Same cup in the same spot. Wouldn’t it make sense that during the three weeks she presumably sent those messages that something would have moved?” Han shook his head somberly. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

*** 

That evening, Leia and Han sat around the small table in the Skywalker’s kitchen. Luke still wore the weariness of an extended mission, cut short by the distress in his sister’s voice in her communication to him. Mara stood behind them, sipping on a mug of caf. 

“When was the last time you know for sure you heard from her?” Luke asked. 

“About two weeks into term. We talked for a few minutes; she said she wanted to buy some new software for one of her classes. I sent the money to her account,” Leia replied.  
Han leaned his arms against the table. “We knew she was going to be doing some field work, so we wouldn’t be able to speak with her that much. But she promised to send us weekly updates. It was on the third update she sent that I noticed that the background of her transmissions wasn’t changing. When was the last time a nineteen-year-old girl didn’t move her make-up stuff around? So that’s when I went to talk with the encryption guys and asked them to analyze the transmissions. They found that the last three comms from Bree were time-delayed – she sent them all out at the same time but tagged them to arrive a week apart from each other. They also said that there’s been no activity on any of her credcard accounts for about two weeks.”

“I can’t sense if she’s actually in danger,” Luke said, turning to Leia. “Can you?”

Leia shook her head. “I was never able to sense her like I could the other kids. She blended in too much with the other nonsensitives.”

“What did the university have to say?” Mara asked.

“No sign of a struggle. No signs of violence. No one has seen her in about two weeks, and she hasn’t been to her classes,” Han said. “They didn’t contact us because as an adult, Bree has the right to stop attending if she wants to.”

“Her datapad’s missing,” Leia added. “But her commlink is there and turned off. If she has a commlink then it’s an unregistered one, but no one has heard from her.”

Luke leaned back, assessing the information. “So, no sign of foul play, we don’t have any ransom demands, and no group is claiming credit for kidnapping her.”

“Is it possible that she did this herself?” Mara asked. “Would she just run off and leave everything?”

Leia rubbed her forehead. “Bree has always been such a good girl. Why would she do that?”

“She’s been through a lot,” Mara said. “I know how close she and Anakin were. They were like the two younger twins, the match to Jaina and Jacen. I wonder if she needs to deal with her grief in her own way.”

“But we had a funeral and final rites for him!” Leia protested.

“A Jedi funeral. With Jedi rites. How would that have given Bree any closure?” Han said. “Jaina and Jacen had you, Leia, and Luke and Mara to help them deal with the loss of their brother as a Jedi. I was so devastated by Anakin’s loss myself that I know I didn’t consider how Bree was doing. I took it for granted that she had moved on from it. Maybe she didn’t. I should have paid more attention to her.”

Leia looked distraught. “She never said anything about this to me.”

“You were both crushed by Anakin’s loss,” Mara said gently. “Maybe Bree didn’t want to burden you with her own grief.”

“Whatever the reason, we have to deal with this issue now,” Luke said. “The question is, do we want to start an investigation that involves the official authorities? Should we handle it more quietly? If what Mara suggests is true and we get more security involved, it might drive her deeper away. If she was kidnapped or being held against her will, it might tip our hand that we’re on to the kidnapper. What if we sent a team of our own to investigate first?”

Han and Leia glanced at each other before Han responded. “Let’s try to keep it quiet for now. But I still want the local authorities to be on alert. And if there is a team, I’m going.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Warning - violence)

A week after she arrived aboard, Bree’s wrist was nearly healed. Blue took the bandages off (although she could easily have done so herself), and she flexed her hand experimentally. “Looks good,” she said approvingly.

“You’re fine. It was a clean break,” he said. Although the ship’s rules stated that the refugees were not allowed access to the vessel beyond the cargo bay, Blue kept finding excuses why it was necessary for Bree to report to his office.

They were sitting together in an alcove near his small medic’s office, sharing a package of rations. He broke off a piece of bread from his meal and gave it to her. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“You finish it. I’m not hungry.” 

“You know,” Bree said, picking the bread apart, “We used to have a Barolian babysitter, a friend of my parents’. He was the best babysitter. Or maybe the worst.” She laughed at the memory. “One time, my brother Anakin convinced him that our parents wouldn’t mind at all if we took apart the speeder engine to see how it works. Another time we got him to teach us how to slice around passwords. He showed us all kinds of shortcuts for digging into systems, most of them probably not quite legal. It never occurred to him that if we were quiet we were probably doing something we shouldn’t. After the speeder incident, though, my parents got another sitter.”

Blue laughed; then his face took on a look of concern. “What happened to your family? Do you mind if I ask?” 

Bree chewed on the bread to buy time as she considered how to answer. “My parents were involved in the war. They were gone a lot. My sister and my brothers were all – soldiers.” Bree looked downward. “My brother Anakin was killed in action. My other brother isn’t the same anymore and my sister just throws herself into her job now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“Anakin was the best brother. We were close in age, and my two older siblings were twins, so Anakin and I did everything together. If the twins picked on us, he had my back.” She sighed. “When I found out he had been killed, I felt like half my heart had been torn away.”

“Did you serve in the war too?”

“Oh, no. My parents didn’t feel I was capable of it. They’ve always protected me. That’s why I went to Corellia University instead.”

Blue whistled appreciatively. “Impressive. Corellia University? And they didn’t think you were capable?”

“My family’s priorities are different,” she said dismissively. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

He changed the subject. “So what were you studying at Corellia?”

“Sociology, psychology. I just wish I could do something with what I’ve learned. To be of some use to someone somewhere.”

“I made it through three years of pre-med before everything went directly to the seven bowels of hell. I had even begun to apply to medical school.” He snapped shut the now-empty ration box. “There’s never enough to eat in these things.”

She tilted her head. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

“There’s my parents and I have a little sister. She’d be about fourteen. I don’t know for sure where they are now.”

“When is the last time you heard from them?” she asked.

“Years.” Sadness tinged his voice. 

Bree was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.” She instinctively reached over to touch his hand. He pulled away, and she stopped. Then he smiled, the playful smile she had gotten used to, and reached for her hand.

“Let’s see,” he said, holding up her left hand for examination. He traced his fingers around her wrist and rubbed the back of her hand. “Good muscle response, no sign of infection: my diagnosis is that I think your wrist is much better now.”

She stifled a laugh. “That’s the wrong wrist, doc.”

“Oh, my mistake.” He took her right hand into his, and caressed it. “Either way, you have lovely strong wrists.”

They grew silent again. She looked at her hands in his, and stretched out her hands so that their fingers interlaced. Her heart began to beat a little louder. They sat like that for a moment, fingers entwined, before he leaned in closer to her. She leaned in too, and closed her eyes. His mouth met hers and she felt herself melt. 

*** 

Alta smiled as Bree settled herself on their shared space. “Another visit with Doc Blue?” Alta asked coyly.

She touched her lips absently. It was almost as if she could still feel the warmth of his. “He’s sweet,” she said. “And my wrist is all set. He’s a really good medic.”

Alta tidied the strewn playthings that Tara had left, and glanced over to her daughter, who was engaged in a game with another child. “You’re right, he’s an excellent medic. Tara had a touch of a respiratory infection and he caught it and treated it. I didn’t even realize she was coming down with anything,” 

“Bree, I know it’s not my business, but…” Alta paused. “Have you wondered why such a good medic is on a refugee ship?”

“No. Should I?”

“Medical experts are in high demand. He could be making a lot of money somewhere else. Why is he here? He can’t be making more than a third-class specialists’ pay.”

Bree frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, Bree. All I’m asking is this – before you get all tangled up in this man, how well do you really know him?”

Bree sat back and put her arms around her knees, resting her chin on her hands. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Alta said reassuringly. “Just remember, though – when this ship docks in another four weeks or so, you will be getting off and he will be moving on.”

*** 

Blue was bent down to inventory the lower cases in the pharmacy when he heard the door to the storage area open. He stood up as Wells came around the corner.  
Wells snorted. “Look here. It’s the parolee from Baroli.”

Blue turned away and began to check labels again. “Don’t start.”

“How ironic. You of all people are in charge of keeping track of the drugs around here. It must be tempting.” Wells came closer, sneering. “I bet you know exactly which ones can bring back that spice high that you like so much.”

“Leave me alone –“

“Or what?” Wells laughed. “What are you gonna do? Hit back? And I’ll file assault charges on you, and you know what that means.”

Wells came closer and knocked the datapad out of Blue’s hand. “How’s your latest stray working out? That’s what, three now? How many more to go?” 

Blue’s breath came out in labored heaving. “I told you. Leave her alone. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“I’d say she does. Are you making friends with her? And does she know why you’re being so nice?”

Rage erupted in Blue, but he grabbed the railing and hung on instead of answering. Wells circled around to face him again. “Tell me, sleemo,” he spat. “What if she knew the truth about you? How would she feel if she knew you were nothing more than a filthy drug addict? A convicted dealer?” Wells’ fist reeled back and hit Blue hard across the face, splitting his lip. Blue wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and gripped the railing even tighter with his other hand to stop from hitting back. “You bastard. You –“

Wells punched Blue’s in the abdomen, and Blue doubled over and dropped to his knees. A follow-up hit to the side of Blue’s face sent him to the ground, dazed. Wells bent down to Blue’s prone form and spoke quietly, his voice a taunt. “What if she knew you were a killer?”


	5. Chapter 5

Bree woke up in the middle of the night to feel a hand slide slowly across her shoulder. Although her senses were alert, she waited and pretended to sleep until she knew the intention of the hand’s owner. A moment later, she felt a tug on the strap of her bag as someone tried to pull it away from her. 

She moved quickly, swinging her leg around to catch the intruder off balance. The teenager fell to the ground with a thud. It was the same Twi’lek boy she had seen so brutally treated by Wells during the initial passenger scan. He lunged at her, and she sprang to her feet. A moment later he was on his back, his arm pinned painfully behind him and her foot on his throat. His free arm thrashed about helplessly.

“Are you going to try that again?” she said through gritted teeth.

The boy gasped for air and shook his head frantically. Bree held him like that for a moment longer, choking quietly under her heel, to let him reflect upon the error of his actions. Then she slowly let him up. He took a deep breath and rubbed his throat before skulking away in silence.

Bree let loose the breath she was holding. This was the second time someone had tried to steal her bag from her. The first time she had foolishly left it unattended for a moment, but this brazen attempt was not due to her ignorance. It wasn’t that she had a lot of possessions with her, but they were hers. She would share if asked, but she was not going to be robbed.

She lay back down on the blanket, her bag clutched to her chest. 

When first light came, she immediately checked her possessions and, satisfied that they were intact, she sat up and yawned. If she were home, she would get a bracing mug of stimcaf to get started. But she was in the middle of a slow trader’s cargo hold. There would be food in an hour or so, but that would have to hold her for the rest of the day until evening meal. She thought back to Blue’s kindness in sharing his meal with her yesterday, and realized with a pang that that was probably his only food for the afternoon. Why had she believed him when he had said he wasn’t hungry? How convincing he could be. And yet, she couldn’t deny the kindness to his gesture. She smiled at the thought of seeing him later that day.

Bree waited until an hour or so after the first meal ration boxes were distributed, then every few minutes she glanced toward the door. The cargo doors stayed shut.   
Around midday Alta came by and sat beside her. “I heard you last night,” she said. “You handled that well. You won’t be bothered again.”

Bree looked at her. “How do you do it, Alta? How do you keep yourself and Tara safe?”

Alta crossed her arms and hugged herself. “We do our best. Usually the thugs see a mother and child either as easy prey or they leave us alone. We’re lucky. This trip, they leave us alone. A woman alone like you, though – that’s another story. You made your point. The others saw it. They won’t try again.”

“The others?”

She turned toward her, and incredulous look on her face. “That was just a test,” Alta said. “He was sent to see how you would react. If he had been able to steal your bag, the real thugs would be back tonight to take whatever they wanted.”

A chill ran down Bree’s back. She used to whine when her parents made her take martial arts training, complaining that it was wasted on a nonsensitive like her – who would want to kidnap her anyway when her siblings were far more interesting? But for once she was grateful for the skills she had learned.

“Alta, what would happen to Tara if something happened to you?” Bree asked.

“I try not to think about it,” she said, shaking her head. “If she lived long enough, the best case is that she’d be put into one of the state facilities for lost children. Or she might just be abandoned. Or sold. It depends on what happened to me and where it happened.” Alta gestured toward the Twi’lek youth, sitting alone. “Look at him. He’s still just a boy, and he’s on his own. You can’t blame him for how he acts. Without a family, you’re either predator or prey, and he’s trying to fit into a group to protect himself.”

Bree sat silently, absorbing the implications of what Alta had said. Finally she spoke. “Why doesn’t anyone do something more to help you? To help all of the refugees?”

Alta laughed bitterly. “Nobody cares.” She got up to retrieve her daughter, who was wandering too closely to a sleeping Bothan.

Bree rubbed the back of her neck pensively. Then she reached into her bag and retrieved her datapad. Switching it on, she opened a document and began to jot down her thoughts. She continued to write for the rest of the morning. Occasionally throughout the long, boring afternoon, she would glance at the cargo doors, but they stayed closed through the rest of the day cycle and into the night. 

Bree felt the room closing in on her. When she first came aboard, she was running from her pointless life, from her grief. But now that she had nowhere to run, she couldn’t avoid the tendrils of dull emptiness that seemed to coil around her in every quiet moment. Only one person had truly made the day worth waiting for. She set her expression and willed herself not to look at the doors again. No amount of glancing in that direction on her part would ever make him appear.


	6. Chapter 6

The University at Corellia was elegant, ancestral and imposing, and the last thing the administrators wanted was a scandal. It had been one of the few institutions of higher learning that had either escaped a direct threat in the Vong war or had been gutted of its funding post-war, and the powers that ran it wanted to keep it that way. To that end, they reasoned, a small team comprised of two Jedi and a former New Republic general was far preferable to a full police investigation.

Han glanced around Bree’s small dorm. The room reflected the tastes of a typical college girl, with colorful decorative patterns and holos of her friends and family tucked around the desk. He pulled out a drawer and rifled through her pretty clothes and her trendy jewelry. He swallowed hard. Han was able to put his emotions aside and analyze what he was seeing, registering what items he knew she owned against what seemed to be missing. However, his stomach turned with the anxiety of not knowing where Bree was and whether or not she was safe.

He looked up as the door opened. Kyp entered the room, reading his datapad. “I checked out the last contacts that she made on her commlink. I was able to recover the comms that she had tried to delete. There’s one here that’s interesting.”

“What is it?” Han asked.

“Well, most of the comms are to fellow students or the occasional professor,” the Jedi said. “But there’s one here that goes off campus. I’m running the source now.”  
“What did Kirana find out?”

Kyp tapped his datapad. “She spoke to most of Bree’s friends. The boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – said she was – and I’m quoting here – ‘moody and no fun anymore.’” Kyp looked at Han. “I’m guessing that’s one of the reasons he’s the ex-boyfriend.” He looked back at the information on the datapad. “As for the other friends of hers, they said she’d been restless, depressed even. One of them told her that Bree was thinking of spirit walking for a while.”

“Spirit walking? What in the –“ Han rubbed his eyes, then dragged his hand through his short gray hair. “What is that?”

Kyp checked his notes again. “It’s a religious ritual that you do to reset your life after a trauma. It’s an old Naboo tradition. Supposedly, you let your heart heal by allowing the Force to take you to your true home.”

Han shook his head. When did Bree start showing an interest in old Naboo religious traditions? How much else about her didn’t he know?

A quiet chirp alerted Kyp to his datapad. He read the message and turned to Han. “The comm that Bree made off campus was to an art dealer who, it seems, also has a side business in false documents. That’s our best shot.”

Kyp started to leave the dorm room, but turned back when he realized Han hadn’t moved. He paused and looked back at Han, who slowly raised his eyes to meet Kyp’s. Worry etched across Han’s face, and he looked older than his years.

“I gotta know,” Han said roughly. “Tell me. What do you sense? What happened to her in here?”

The room grew quiet. Kyp closed his eyes and stretched out with his mind, his Force sense undulating throughout the small living space. Finally he opened his eyes and looked at Han. “There are no residuals here to indicate fear or pain. There’s deep sadness, there’s possibly some confusion, but there is nothing to tell me that she went through any violence here.”

Han closed his eyes in relief. “All right. Let’s go talk to this art dealer.”

***

Mara leaned against Ghent’s desk, waiting for his response. The Barolian slicer stared at her in disbelief. “Do you have any idea how difficult that would be?” he asked her.

She flicked her hair behind her and shrugged. “We’re talking about my niece. I don’t care how difficult it is.” She held out the datacard and waited. Eventually Ghent took it from her.

“She’s missing, Ghent. Somewhere, there’s a recorder that caught her image. You have the most powerful computers in the galaxy at your disposal. Find her.”

Ghent frowned in uncertainty as he leaned back in his chair and turned the data card over in his hand. She came to stand behind his chair and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Bree needs your help now. Please. You’re the best there is.”

“All right,” he said finally. “I’ll have something to report by the end of the day.”

She patted his shoulders. “Thank you, old friend.”

Ghent watched her leave. The realization slowly dawned on him that despite his protestations, no matter what Mara had asked of him, he would have done it for her anyway.

***

Kirana Ti met the two men as they approached her ship, the Night Cloud. “Did you find out anything?” she asked.

“She’s got a fake identicard,” Kyp reported. “I need to link the ship’s computer to the NR resources and see if we can find where it was used.”

They followed her into the vessel and Kyp carelessly tossed his cape on the back of a seat. Frowning, Kirana picked it up and threw it back at him. “My ship. You know my rules.”  
“Don’t mess with a woman’s ship, son,” Han admonished as he began the preflight check from the co-pilot’s seat. “Listen to the voice of experience. I once put my feet on the console of the Jade Sabre. Nearly started a civil war.”

Kyp rolled his eyes, took the cape, and hung it in the storage area. “Much better,” Kirana said. She got into the pilot’s seat and strapped the safety webbing into place. Kyp sat behind Han, near the communications console. A few minutes later, as the ship’s engines were nearly ready for liftoff, he had a general direction. “Irylia,” he announced. “She used the card to purchase a transport from Corellia to Irylia, and then again to pass customs at Irylia.”

Kirana set the coordinates. “Then Irylia it is.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bree lifted her head from the blanket and looked around her. Nearly everyone else was still asleep, but a noise had caught her attention and snapped her awake. She glimpsed a familiar person sitting beside a worried father, demonstrating how to operate some kind of inhaler for a child. Apparently satisfied, Blue stood up and began to repack his medical backpack. His cobalt hair, normally pulled into a neat tail low on his neck, hung loosely like a curtain.

Bree felt her heart skip and her spirits rise. She began to get up, and then realized that he had already slung the backpack over his shoulders and was getting ready to leave without stopping to see her. She adroitly sidestepped the still-sleeping refugees and caught up with him at the cargo doors. Bree put her hand on the door to stop him from leaving.

She gasped when he turned to her. She’d seen injuries on her siblings when they had come home from intense fighting. The bruises on Blue’s face reminded her of those.   
“What in the hells of Kessel happened to you?” she hissed. 

Wordlessly, he entered his passcard into the slot and the door slid open. She exited with him and stood in the hallway next him. Bree pushed his hair back and gently touched his swollen cheek, the cut on his lip. He winced and pulled away. “Tell me what happened,” she repeated softly. “Was it Wells? It was him, wasn’t it?”

Blue hung his head down and began walking away, but she held onto his arm. He stopped, then to her surprise he slammed his hand against the wall. “It’s all right,” she soothed. “Calm down.” She hesitated for a second, then put her arms around him and held him until he got his emotions under control. “Why does he do this to you?” 

“Why? Money.” He shook his head and released the embrace. “Wells works for the company that owns the ship, not for Captain Sia, like I do. He gets paid based on how much cargo we carry and the government stipend for refugees is nowhere close to what he could be making. Since the law says that the refugees have to get medical attention, he figures if he can get rid of the medic then he can get rid of the refugees.” 

Blue leaned against the wall for a moment, forcing his emotions under control again. Then his shoulders slumped. He turned and resignedly began to walk back down the hallway, Bree at his side. Once they got to his office, Blue unlocked the door and they went in. He dropped his backpack on the floor and sat heavily on the chair while she went to his dispensary cabinet. She found an analgesic cloth and began to dab his face with it. Blue closed his eyes and let her apply the pain medication.

She reached down to wipe his face again but he caught her wrist and slowly brought her hand down. “Save the rest for someone else,” he said tiredly. “That’s the next to last box.”  
Bree shook her head at his stubbornness and returned the box of analgesics to cabinet. “Is this why you haven’t come in?” she asked. She sat on the edge of his desk and waited for an answer. 

He was silent for a while. Then he put his elbows on his desk beside her, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Why do you let him torment you like this?” she asked. “I don’t understand why you don’t defend yourself or at least report him to the captain. You can’t just let him get away with it.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said dully. 

He looked up at her, and the sadness in his eyes softened her. “Then tell me,” she said. “Don’t keep me out. Maybe I can help.”

“Nothing can help. The laws are very clear.” He looked away again and laughed bitterly. “Remember how I told you that I didn’t finish my education? I didn’t leave University because I dropped out or because of the war. It’s worse.” He stared at the wall, not looking at her. “Bree, I don’t lie. I’ve lied long enough – to my family, to myself – and I don’t lie anymore. If you really want me to I’ll tell you the truth, but you won’t like it.”

“Tell me,” she said softly. She felt her stomach tighten.

Blue took a deep breath, then let it out. “What I said about studying to be a doctor was true. Then I got involved in stupid, stupid things. My friends and I started to party pretty hard, and we always found a way to get ahold of spice. Then I figured out that I could make some good money selling it to the other students. My grades went into the trash but I was making so much money dealing, and honestly, I was usually so high I didn’t even care. Then one night my best friend, Miko, and I -- we thought it would be funny to steal a speeder, so that’s what we did. I don’t even remember driving. I woke up in the hospital, cuffed to the bed frame.”

“He was my best friend and I killed him. I had minor injuries but he was dead at the scene.” Blue sat still, his expression stony. “So I was arrested for negligent homicide. Then they added the drug charges for operating under the influence, then they looked a little deeper and added the speeder theft and dealing in illegal substances charges.”

He couldn’t look at her. “I killed my best friend, Bree. I went to prison for three years.” 

She sat in silence before finally speaking. “I remember Wells called me your stray. What did he mean?”

“Part of the condition for my parole is that I have to atone for these crimes. I have repay the loss I caused tenfold. Since I took one life, now I have to save ten others. It started two years ago when I was released, and now I have eight years left to complete this. When I saw you waiting with the refugees, you didn’t look like them. Your clothes were new, you were clean and fed, you didn’t have that defeated, lost look that most refugees had. I could see you were hurt. I thought you would be easy prey, and that you were in danger, so I brought you in. When I announced to Entoo-ell that you were my patient, he recorded it as a life toward my atonement. You’re the third person I’ve done this with.” 

He sighed. “Wells knows that he can’t get into trouble unless he murders or slaves me. I have no right to report him. I have almost no rights at all until I finish my term.” Blue paused, and, after a moment’s consideration, he leaned over the desk and took a scrap of flimsy, then wrote something on it. He folded the flimsy and slid it across the desk to Bree, who opened it, read it silently, and looked quizzically at him. “That’s my real name. You’re the only one on the ship who knows it – not even Captian Sia knows it. Under Barolian law, I’m just Parolee 735204 until I complete my atonement. The laws are so strict that I’m not permitted to contact my family or anyone from my past. Even the use of that name I wrote down is a violation of parole.”

He stared resignedly at the desktop. “I deserve what I got. This is the consequence for what I’ve done, and I have to take responsibility for my actions.”

Bree felt her skin grow cold. The image of Blue with his playful smile and his gentle mannerisms didn’t correspond to that of a callous drug dealer, indifferent even to the safety of his best friend. 

The silence hung between them, and she knew he was waiting for her reaction. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. 

He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I just thought it was important for you to know the truth.”

Bree sat quietly, absorbing all she had just heard, then she got up and wordlessly left his office. Blue buried his head in his hands.


	8. Chapter 8

Leia looked at the grainy, small image. The figure was about the right height, and the clothing was certainly Bree’s style. But between the poor image quality and the apparent rain, it was still indecisive. 

“Did she cut her hair?” Leia asked, peering closer. “Where did you find this again?”

Mara glanced at her notes. “Docking bay 34, East Main spaceport, at the Irylia transfer station. We know that she bought a passage to Irylia; this was the most likely place at a transfer station she would have gone.”

“Who’s that with her?” 

“Ghent’s people are working on that. It’s hard to tell. We’re positive that’s a human male, but we can’t make out the specific race or any other characteristics.”

Leia stared at the image. “She’s hurt. She’s cradling her arm.” She frowned and covered her mouth with her raised hand. “I don’t like this at all.”

Mara sighed sympathetically. “Kyp commed about an hour ago. There are so many transients that no one remembers who they saw that morning, never mind three weeks ago. But we have a lead on the ship; it’s a bulk cargo class – a slow mover – registered as the Alisander and under Captain Bel Sia. There is a crew of about twenty. It usually holds commercial cargo but they’ve been doing some refugee transporting under the Protected Displaced Persons Act. She may have slipped in among them.”

Leia straightened up. “So where do they dock next?”

“Already on it,” Mara announced. “They have a scheduled resupply at station 58-07. Han will be there waiting for them.”

*** 

Bree sat at a desk in a nearby unlocked office and folded her arms around herself tightly. She felt like she had been hit in the stomach. 

How could she have been attracted to such a man? 

She imagined him at his university, squandering his education and greedily taking money for what he knew was a disastrous drug. How many people got addicted because of him? How many lives did he carelessly destroy? Her eyes stung. 

His friend Miko was someone’s son, maybe someone’s brother, and his death was Blue’s fault. Tears came for real when she thought of her own brother Anakin. His death had nearly cut her heart in two. At least Anakin’s death had a purpose; Miko died because Blue had been too high to be driving. Selfish. So, so selfish.

Tears turned to anger. All this time, had he been playing her for a gullible fool, lying to her and pretending when she thought he sincerely cared for her? What other things didn’t he tell her? It would be so much simpler if she had access to the Force, like her brother and sister did, but that avenue had never been open to her.

The Force may be a blank wall to her, she thought, but she wasn’t entirely without resources. She uncrumpled the flimsy that she clenched in her hand and reread the name scrawled on it. She wiped her eyes dry, and with a determined motion, she activated the desk’s computer terminal. It was time to learn the truth.

It only took a moment for Bree to slice into the ship’s mainframe. She hadn’t needed to go past the ship’s own internal records to confirm that his medic’s pay was processed through a Barolian corrections facility. But then again, he admitted he had gone to prison. This didn’t tell her anything she didn’t know already. 

She swiped through a series of screens until she came to the connection to the NR information resources. Now she was getting somewhere. All she had to do was to enter his actual name, and his entire history would be called up – the court records, the arrest information, everything.

Bree paused. But by doing so, she would be using a name that he said no one was supposed to access anymore. Had that been true, or was he just trying to hide other things from her? She did a generalized search on the rules of incarceration on Baroli and read about the concept of atonement. It wasn’t easy to do, but at the end, the victim’s family agreed to forgive the offense. And yes, it involved complete separation from the inmate’s former life. To violate the parole or to fail to complete the terms of atonement would start the incarceration process all over again, so the stakes were high.

Bree considered this, then looked at the flimsy. So far, her research confirmed what he had said. Her hand froze, poised above the screen, moments from entering in the name. Would her use of his real name trigger a reaction? If what he said was accurate, then telling her his name was an astounding act of trust in her. Bree chewed on her lip. He had told her about his experiences even though it obviously pained him. But only when she had pressured him to tell her what had happened. But then again, if the roles were reversed, would she have volunteered such devastating information to him? Reluctantly, she admitted that she would probably have tried to keep things quiet. After all, she still hadn’t told him truth of her own identity. 

She glanced at the flimsy again, and back at the screen. All she had to do was enter the name and she would have his official record. 

And yet…He had never been anything but kind to her. He had seemed genuinely happy to spend time with her. He told her damnable things that he knew would drive her away. And what would he gain by telling her about his imprisonment or his atonement, when he had so much to lose? 

The only thing that made sense was that, when she had asked, he had responded with the truth. There was nothing more to tell, no hidden secrets to discover. He had risked everything on her trust.

She closed down the computer without entering anything, and shredded the flimsy into irreparable pieces.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sexual content (Consensual m/f)

Alta’s earlier comments about no one caring enough to worry about the refugees bothered Bree. She had always assumed that her mother’s work in the government had made everything better. She realized now how naive that assumption was. 

She couldn’t recall anyone at Ossus who still discussed the refugees’ plight. Back home, it was as if the refugee problem was a thing of the past – once the proper laws and acts had been passed, the crisis was solved. Looking around her, it was obvious that for the individuals here, the crisis had become their way of life. Each of them had a story to tell but no voice to speak their words. Maybe it was time that someone tried. Besides, it was something useful for Bree to do while she considered how to respond to the things Blue had told her.

Bree was sitting beside an elderly gentleman from Coruscant, writing down the details of the journey that took him to this spot in the cargo bay. She was so engrossed in her interview that she didn’t hear the cargo bay door slide open. Blue looked across the bay and saw her sitting with her back to him. He considered if he should try to talk to her, then decided against it. She clearly wasn’t waiting for him. He swallowed hard and, after tending to his patients, he quietly left the area again. 

The next day as Bree came out of the common bathing area, she saw Alta and another woman at the sink washing clothing. She stopped, surprised. “Who’s watching Tara and Kimma?” Bree asked. She knew the women would never leave their children unattended. 

Alta looked up and smiled. “We found a babysitter. Go look and see.”

Bree shook her short brown hair to get the excess water off, then peered around the corner towards the blanket that she shared with Alta. Two little girls were intently decorating Blue’s hair with scraps of colored fabrics and half-completed braids. Blue winced as Kimma yanked his hair back, but let her continue to play. Bree smiled despite herself.   
Bree walked over, smiling at the girls as they looked up proudly from their work. “How lovely,” she said to the children. Alta appeared, then took each girl by the hand and led them away. “Let Miss Bree and Doc Blue have a moment, girls,” she said. She looked pointedly at Bree. “They need to talk.”

Bree sat down, and she and Blue waited in awkward silence for the other to speak. Unsure of what to say, Bree moved to sit behind him and began to undo the children’s decorations. Blue sat still and let her unravel the tangled mess, deftly smoothing it into a straight tail again. When she finished tying it securely, she rested her hand on his back. He took the chance and leaned backwards, and she let him lean against her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking downward.

“For telling me what happened?”

He shook his head. “For it ever happening. For upsetting you.”

Bree leaned her head against his and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of him. She wondered if he could feel her heart pounding. 

He continued, quietly. “The whole point of atonement is to make you feel the grief you caused, and believe me, I feel it like a burn in my bones. But it’s the only hope I have to ever be forgiven. I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, and I wish I could take it all back.”

Eventually he turned around to face her. “I have something for you,” he said. He reached into an outside pocket on his medical backpack and retrieved a small object, then slipped it under her blanket. “It’s all access, except for command, of course. You don’t have to wait for me to unlock the cargo area doors. If you ever want to come and see me…” He shrugged. “I’m leaving it up to you.” 

Bree slid her hand under the blanket and felt the outline of the passcard. She nodded in understanding. Blue stood up slowly, hesitated, then picked up his backpack and began to walk away. 

“Wait,” she said. He stopped and turned toward her as she stood up and made her way next to him. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I know it wasn’t easy.” Blue looked at the floor.

If she was going to say it, this was the time. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, either,” she admitted. “I’m using a false identicard. That’s not my real name.”

He smiled wryly, still looking down. “It’s not even remotely close, is it.” He looked up and into her eyes. “Do you want to tell me?”

“It’s really Bree. I mean, that’s my nickname, but it’s my real nickname.” She frowned. “How long have you known?”

“I’ve suspected since the beginning. I figured, if you wanted me to know who you really were, you would tell me. I wanted to respect your privacy.”

She hesitated. “Look,” he said. “Whatever you’re running from, whatever you did, who am I to judge? When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.”

She began to pick at her fingernail. “It’s not that. You see, well, I’m from a rather prominent family.”

“What, you mean like a celebrity? Or a government official?”

“Something like that.” She looked back up at him. “I promise I’ll tell you. I’m just not ready yet.”

“I can wait. Whenever you’re ready,” he said. They stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Then he leaned down to kiss her cheek lightly, turned away, and left. 

Bree silently watched him open the cargo doors and leave the room. People can change, she thought. She considered how her father had believed he would be a smuggler all his life until he met her mother. For star’s sake, talk about change -- her aunt had tried to kill her uncle. But he forgave her anyway. 

She shoved her hands in her jacket pocket, and her fingers hand brushed against the passcard. 

*** 

The passageway lights were dimmed for night running by the time that Bree made her way towards Blue’s quarters. She had raised her hand to press the door chime when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Blue walking toward her, his backpack slung over his shoulders.

Blue smiled at her. “I’m glad you came. I had hoped to see you before I left for the resupply station.” Bree said nothing, but instead put her hand behind Blue’s head. She pulled him down into a forceful kiss. He startled, then, returned the kiss. The gentle touch of his lips on hers deepened, and the sensation of his body pressed against hers made her tremble.

“Let me stay with you,” she whispered. They paused, foreheads touching and their breaths intermingled. He held his hand to her face, and his fingers traced the line of her jaw to brush her lips.

Blue pulled away with effort. “You don’t have to do this,” he said huskily. “I understand if you don’t want to get involved.”

“What’s in your past is done. All we have is right now. I don’t want to be alone anymore, and I don’t think you do either.” She closed her eyes and kissed him again, this time letting her lips part from his with tender slowness. “Let me in.”

He hesitated, then with new resolve, he keyed his code into the lock and they fell into the doorway. The door slid closed behind them. Blue set the lock, and, satisfied that they would not be interrupted, he let his backpack slide to the floor and turned to her again. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. He kissed her again, deeply, his tongue meeting hers. She shivered as he trailed kisses down her neck. 

Blue broke away and held her at arm’s length as if to apprise her. “You will have to go back to the cargo area. You can’t stay the night. You know that, right?”

“I know. Don’t worry. I won’t get you in trouble.” 

Blue paused a moment, considering. Then he walked across the room to a small dispensary, pulled open a drawer, and began to rifle through his medical supplies. Finally he located the item he searched for. “Do you want the contraceptive or should I do it?” he asked.

“I’ll do it. It’s easier,” she answered. “But there’s a ten minute delay for it to kick in.”

He tossed her the injector spray, and she plunged the aerator into her upper arm. “Any ideas for what we should do for the next ten minutes?” She grinned at him as she walked up close to him, letting her fingers brush against his chest.

As if in answer, Blue took a chrono from his desk and set it for ten minutes then tossed it aside. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him. Slowly, deliberately, he kissed her again, letting his hands run down her back until he found where her shirt was tucked in her pants. He slid his hand underneath the fabric and up against the bare skin of her back.

Bree drew a breath as his hands made their way to the front of her body. She paused as he stopped to pull off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. He was slender but built, a body fit for a runner or endurance fighter rather than a boxer or smashball player. She drew her fingers up the line of his ribs, then across his chest. 

Bree pulled her shirt out of her pants completely and over her head. His fingertips moved along the lower edge of her bra, then he slid his hands beneath it. The sudden friction of his hands against her breasts made her gasp. Then he pushed the bra up and out of the way and her full breasts felt the coolness of the air. She made a quick twist and the bra slid off completely. Blue kissed her again as his hands slid across her, his thumbs caressing her taut nipples. His kisses moved lower until they reached the fullness of her cleavage. Bree caught her breath as he leaned down and kissed her breasts, his lips and tongue tracing patterns across her areola and nipple.

Blue stood up straight again and looked into her eyes, then, he pulled her by the waist onto his bed. She rolled onto her back, kicking off her boots in the process, and he balanced himself above her as she raised her hand to caress his face, to trace the subtle tattoos that adorned his forehead. He breathed small kisses across her mouth, his hand still touching her breast. She arched her back in exquisite approval. “More,” she murmured. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

She grabbed his hand and placed it directly between her legs. “You aren’t my first, and I’m not breakable,” she replied. He rubbed his hand against her, and she felt the building warmth and wetness. “Don’t hold back,” she breathed. “Trust me.” She unfastened his trousers and slid her hand inside, stroking the hardness she found there. 

At last the timer went off. Bree quickly undid her pants while Blue removed his own boots then slid the already loosened trousers and boxers off. He angled himself over her and slid his fingers across her wetness, toying with her most intimate areas as she whimpered in response. 

With a cry, Bree found herself twisted around. Suddenly she was on top of him. She smiled, then straddled him, maneuvering him into her opening and sliding down so that he entered her. She felt Blue tremble beneath her as she began to rock back and forth. He reached up to frame her torso and caress her breasts as they moved with her rhythm. Bree slid back and forth until every bit of him was inside her. 

He answered each motion of hers with a thrust of his own. A few minutes later, she tilted her head back and grabbed onto his shoulders. He wrapped his arms tightly around her back and drew her down to him, then covered her mouth with his own, muffling her cry of ecstasy with his deep kiss. A moment later he had rolled her onto her back again. His breath was hot and ragged against her cheek, and after a few more forceful thrusts, he collapsed on her, sweat-glistened. 

He caught his breath as he lay there, still deeply inside her, then raised himself enough to prop himself up on one elbow. With his other hand he brushed her short brown hair off her forehead. He kissed her tenderly once more before withdrawing and rolling onto his back again.

He turned toward her and stared at her face as if memorizing it as she closed her eyes and smiled, contented.

*** 

They lay together quietly, Bree resting against his chest. He absently stroked her arm, tracing small circles on her skin. She nestled in and waited for his arm to still, for his breathing to become deeper. 

Once she was convinced he was sleeping, she silently drew back the sheet and slid out of bed, placing the sheet gently around him again. She redressed, then leaned over his still form to place the softest of kisses against his cheek. “I love you,” she murmured, barely audibly. A moment later she unlocked the door and walked away.

As soon as he heard the door quietly close, Blue opened his eyes from his feigned sleep and stared into the dimly lit room. Her side of his small bed was still warm, and he reached over to feel the dissipating heat she had left behind. The absence of her made the empty room even emptier, a cruel foreshadowing of how things would be in a little more than a week, when the ship docked and she inevitably left him forever. What would be the point of telling her how he felt about her? 

Don’t hope for what can’t be. Never forget what you are. 

He turned back on his side, his face toward the wall, and his tears fell onto the pillow.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - threat of sexual assault

Station 58-07 was ugly, loud, and dirty; a typical outpost used only by those passing through. The few residents who lived there eked out a living by selling lost and abandoned items to desperate travelers. Their gaudy kiosks lined the station’s main terminal, nearly obscuring the drab government agency offices. 

Kirana Ti sidestepped an over-aggressive vendor and scowled. Kyp, on the other hand, was talking animatedly with another vendor, an old woman selling electronics of dubious authenticity. After a few minutes, he returned to Han and Kirana. “She says that the crew usually disembarks about thirty minutes after the ship docks,” Kyp reported. “There’s quarantine, customs – it takes a while.”

“I need to talk with Captain Sia. She’ll be one of the first out,” Han said. 

“You won’t have to wait long. The Alisander arrives in an hour.”

*** 

Although she had used her passcard to sneak out of the cargo area a number of times over the past week, Bree hadn’t planned on seeing him this morning, but on a last minute whim she had decided to say goodbye personally to Blue. He wasn’t hard to find - she recognized the shouting voices instantly. Bree heard the argument long before she got to the infirmary.

The infirmary was a mess. Medbeds were jostled out of place, textbooks knocked off the shelves. A surgical set was splayed across the floor; scalpels, medtapes, and other equipment emptied from their sterilized containers. Against the back wall, Wells lunged across a table at Blue. Wells’ back was to her, but she could see Blue’s face contorted in rage. Blue shoved the table at the larger man, hitting him in the abdomen. Wells raised his fist to strike, then shouted in surprise and pain as a scalpel neatly embedded itself in the back of his hand. 

Wells turned to see the source of the sudden assault and came face-to-face with a vibroblade. Bree quickly rotated the blade to press it up against Wells’s neck as Wells staggered backward.

He narrowed his eyes. “So the stray can bite,” he said sarcastically. 

Blue tried to wedge himself between Wells and Bree and push Wells away from her, but Bree blocked his efforts. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t get involved, Bree.” 

Her sight never wavered from her target. Bree kept the pressure on, pressing so close that Wells could hear the high-pitched whine of the blade. With her free hand she yanked the scalpel out of his hand, and blood dripped out of the wound and onto the floor in small, steady drops. “Get out,” she growled. 

“You got real close to this stray, huh?” Wells muttered. “Even gave her a passcard, I see. Maybe once you’re gone I’ll check in on the livestock in the cargo bay and find out what all the fuss was with her. Would you like that, stray?”

Blue lunged toward him. “Touch her and I will end you,” he snarled.

But Bree was faster, and she skillfully slid her leg behind his ankle. Wells dropped to his knees. “Oh, wrong question to ask the lady with the weapon,” she said, her mouth curling in disgust. Wells was forced to balance himself with one hand, and with a quick motion, she pulled his other arm behind him and twisted. Wells yelped in pain. She pressed her foot against his back as she slowly pulled the blade across his cheek, and a thin stream of blood appeared. “The correct question, you bloated heap of mynock spit, is this: which extremity are you least fond of? Because I plan on taking at least one.”

Blue’s rage dissipated, replaced with trepidation. He put his hand on Bree’s forearm. “Bree, don’t. He isn’t worth it.” 

She considered for a moment, then dragged Wells to a half-standing position. She pushed him forward and he stumbled off-balanced towards the door, which opened automatically. With a final shove, she pushed Wells out of the open door and into the hall, then locked the door behind him.

Blue rushed to her side and frantically began to check her for injuries. Despite her protests, he insisted on confirming that she hadn’t been hurt in the altercation. He closed his eyes and held her until his heart stopped its pounding. 

When he had regained his composure, he released her and turned to look at her. “What kind of prominent family teaches you how to do that?” he asked incredulously.

“There were some kidnapping attempts on my siblings, so my dad thought it would be a good idea for all of us to learn some hand-to-hand combat,” she explained, drawing the deactivated vibroblade through an antiseptic cloth before retracting it. 

“Let me guess: your mom taught you the knife skills?”

“Oh no, my mom taught me how to shoot a blaster. My aunt was the one who taught me knife skills – when she wasn’t taking me to the opera.” She slid the vibroblade back into its hold-out sheath hidden in her jacket. “To be honest, I preferred the knife skills.”

Blue gesticulated and opened his mouth to speak, but found he didn’t know what to say so instead he began to clean up the mess. Bree joined him, picking up items from the floor and placing them on the medbed for him to sort.

Eventually she stopped and stood there. Blue stopped too and looked up at her expectantly. “Please don’t think I didn’t tell you about my family because I wanted to be difficult,” she said quietly. “It’s just that usually when I tell them who I am, people get expectations and make assumptions about me. It’s like people always want something from me.”

Blue folded his arms. “I’ve never asked you for anything. All I want is the truth, Bree.”

She looked away for a moment, then she took a deep breath. “Bree is short for Breha. I’m named after my grandmothers.” She met his eyes. “I’m Breha Amidala Solo. My parents are Han Solo and Leia Organa Solo.”

Blue stood completely still for a long time. Then he began to sort and unsort the items in front of him, eventually moving them randomly. Finally he looked back at her. “Why are you on a refugee ship, then?” he asked.

She came closer and stood beside him. “Ever since my brother died, everything seemed pointless. I wanted to create a new life. I spent so many years under security, watched by bodyguards – I wanted to know that I had what it takes to survive on my own.” She looked at him ruefully, unsure of his reaction.

He rubbed his forehead and his tone became abrupt. “Let me get this straight. You have a family that loves and protects you, but you threw it away to play at being a refugee. Is this some kind of a game to you?” He bent his head and leaned onto the table, balancing himself on balled fists. “Has any of this been real for you?” he asked quietly.

Bree blinked hard, then she placed her hand over his clenched fist. “We’ve known each other for four weeks. You’ve told me your secrets and now I’ve told you mine. I do care about these people, and I care so much about you. Please don’t let the past three minutes destroy everything you’ve learned about me over the last month.” 

Blue exhaled, then unclenched his hands and the tension began to leave his shoulders. He looked down at Bree’s hand on top of his and she held her breath. Then he turned his hand over so that their hands were palm to palm. 

A small smile crooked in the corner of his mouth. She smiled hopefully, and he pulled her closer and held her. She raised their entwined hands to her heart, and with her other hand she touched his cheek. “This is real, Blue,” she said quietly. “I’m still your Bree.”

Blue drew her into a tight embrace. “My Bree,” he repeated, as if trying on the words. “My Bree,” he whispered again.

*** 

Han tilted his head and rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “We can’t just go on the ship. There’s no evidence of anything illegal. We don’t have that right.” 

Leia’s image flickered on the comm display. “This info might change all that. I got the report this morning on the crew of the Alisander. We have a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” 

An image from a prison facility flashed upon Han’s screen. Leia’s voice was troubled. “We’ve identified the last person we saw with Bree.”

*** 

Blue sat on the shuttle, waiting for the others, when Wells came aboard. He dropped into the seat in front of Blue and pointed to the scratch on his face left by Bree’s vibroblade. “Fix it, doc,” he said abruptly.

Blue took a deep breath, then got out of his seat, pulled the shuttle’s first aid kit from under a console and retrieved a tube of antiseptic wound gel. He stood in front of Wells. “Sit still,” he said, emotionless.

Wells grinned. “That stray of yours. She’s something.” He looked up as Blue began to apply the gel in a thin line. “Yeah, I bet she’d be a good ride,” Wells taunted. “Not that you would know, huh.”

Blue clenched his teeth and completed the application. “Are you done?” 

“Nope. I still have the matter of this stab on my hand.” Wells held out his hand, showing the cut on the back of it. He watched Blue as the medic put the antiseptic tube away and retrieved a roll of bacta tape. 

“Or do you know?” Wells said. Blue yanked the tape around Wells’ hand. Wells leered. “You do know, you son of a bitch. You did her. That little whore.”

Blue looked at him with sheer venom in his eyes. “Shut up."

Wells got up slowly, enjoying the moment. He leaned close to Blue and spoke quietly. “Once you’re gone, sleemo, I’m going to try her out. If she would kriff a loser like you, she’ll scream when I take her.”

Blue felt bile rise in his throat. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you. I mean it. I’ll end you.”

Wells smirked. “Don’t tell me you have feelings for her.” When Blue didn’t respond, Wells roared with laughter. “By the gods, you love her. Oh, this will be even better. So, after you’re gone, you can think of this worthless whore you love, and how I’ll be holding her down and showing her what a real man can do.” 

Rage burned in Blue’s eyes, and he lunged toward Wells, his hands toward Wells’s throat. At that moment Derek, the ship’s first mate, came aboard. He looked at the two men. “What’s going on? Blue, you okay?”

Blue lowered his hands and Wells patted Blue’s shoulder. “Yeah, we’re fine,” Wells said. “Just talking.”

Derek looked suspiciously at Wells, then at Blue. “I mean it. You okay, Blue?”

Blue swallowed hard and nodded. He picked up the first aid kit, closed it securely, and stowed it away. On his way back from the storage area, he chose a seat as far from Wells as he could get. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. 

“Give me a reason, Wells,” Derek said, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass this entire transit.” 

Derek stared at Wells, then looked at Blue, then, assured that whatever had passed between the two men was at least at a stalemate, he sat in the copilot’s seat and began pre-flight. Blue closed his eyes. At least for now, Bree was safe. Wells couldn’t touch her as long as he was on the station. But the moment they returned, Blue vowed, he would not let Bree out of his sight. Captain Sia would know about this threat. A threat to himself was of no consequence. A threat to Bree was another thing entirely.

If he broke parole and got sent back to prison, it would be worth it as long as Bree was safe. He leaned back in his seat and willed himself to stop shaking.


	11. Chapter 11

Captain Bel Sia led her group of five from quarantine and into the holding area. Due to another ship’s unexpected cancellation for docking, they had gotten in earlier than planned, which pleased her as it gave her crew a little more time to relax before they headed back later that day. While she and her first mate cleared customs and the mess officer ran through her supply list, Blue and Wells waited for their turn to be dismissed to go acquire more medical supplies and mechanical items. Captain Sia concluded with the necessary documents efficiently, then nodded to the men to complete their assigned tasks. 

Blue found the freedom of the space station exhilarating. After four weeks of being constantly on guard against Wells’s harassment, it was a pleasure to wander the small shops and vendor’s stalls. He had ten credits in his pocket, and he was eager to spend them. One stall caught his eye and drew him closer. Blue picked up a necklace from the vendor’s table and examined it more closely. Gold filament looped around a central crystal of dark brown: the deep, rich color of river clay, of carved sanoba wood. Of Bree’s dark eyes.

“You like? Twenty credits. Very pretty.” A small being waddled out to bargain with him.

Blue hid his smile and held the pendant up to the artificial light, eyeing it critically. “No, it’s not that nice. See? There’s a crack in the casing.”

“Let me see.” The being snatched the necklace from him. “No, not crack. Just bent. But I let you have for sixteen credits.”

The being handed the necklace back to Blue, who snorted and shook his head, placing it back on the table. “I wouldn’t give more than five.”

“Five is insult! You pay eight.”

“Six.”

The being frowned, then hopped up and down. Blue shrugged and had begun to walk away when the little being called after him. “Okay! Seven.” With a sly smile, Blue nodded and handed over the money.

The transaction completed, Blue slipped the necklace into his pocket. He wondered what Bree would think of it; after all, with that family, she had probably worn crown jewels. But even if she just accepted it from him, that would make him happy.

Blue had already resupplied most of the items needed for the remainder of the trip and the start of a new run, loading the boxes onto a transport droid and sending them to the Alisander. The last step was to complete the pharmaceutical supplies, then he was free to go back. He smiled to himself. When was the last time he actually was eager to return to the ship? 

The medical supply station was at the end of a row of nondescript government offices. Blue placed his order on the console, then inserted the data card with the results of the pharmacy inventory he had taken aboard ship. Idly, he wondered if he might be able to see Bree as soon as tomorrow, when they were alone. He didn’t want to give her the necklace in front of anyone else. 

He glanced at the console and frowned. This was taking longer than usual. 

A door opened at the opposite side of the room, and a uniformed man came out. “Identification please,” he said.

Blue took out his identicard and handed it over. “Is there a problem?” he asked. He heard a noise behind him, and his peripheral vision detected the approach of a guard. His heart began to pound.

The uniformed man read Blue’s identicard and narrowed his eyes. He motioned for the guard. “You’ll have to come with me,” he said abruptly.

Blue backed away. “Wait. What’s wrong? Tell me!” The guard reached for Blue’s arm and Blue instinctively yanked it out of his reach. In response, the guard slammed him hard against the wall and pulled his arms backward. His knees nearly buckled when he felt the binders snap against his wrists.

A pair of security officers appeared at the door, and the uniformed man beckoned them over. Blue could barely contain his panic. “What did I do?” he cried out. 

“You are under arrest for violation of your parole.” The uniformed man turned to the security officers. “Bring him to the detention cells.”

*** 

Captain Sia huffed in annoyance. Time was of the essence, and she did not like to wait. Her first officer looked at her and shook his head. The mess officer sat on one of the benches, clearly bored. Wells smirked. He picked absently at the thin mark against his cheek, faintly visible under the antiseptic wound gel that Blue had applied earlier in the day.  
She checked her chrono again, then frowned. “If he hasn’t checked in, then where is he?” she asked. Her first mate tapped her shoulder, and she turned to see three people approaching. Recognizing one of them, she cocked an eyebrow. She raised her chin, appearing even taller than her already regal height, a look enhanced by her halo of tight black curls.

Han Solo strode up to her. “Captain Sia, we need to talk.”

“General Solo. Would this be about my missing medic?” she asked.

“More about my missing daughter,” he replied. 

If Captain Sia was surprised, she didn’t let it show. Instead, she gestured toward a small seating area. “I have a ship ready to leave. Let’s make this quick.”

*** 

After the other night, Blue had left her the code to unlock his quarters, and now Bree sat cross-legged on Blue’s bed, reviewing what she had written. She had done several interviews and written the refugees’ stories down. If she could personalize their experiences, she reasoned, maybe someone on Ossus would listen to their plight. She was pleased with what she had written so far. But her datapad had only so much storage, and it made sense to download her work onto Blue’s computer instead. She had easily sliced around his passcocde. 

She got off the bed and sat in front of his computer, linking her datapad to his console. Bree had started to upload her work when she noticed a blinking light on the screen that signaled an incoming message. She paused, frowning. How long had that been there, and who would be sending a message to Blue? From what he had said, he wasn’t allowed contact with anyone from his past, except for government business, and this signal was coming from a personal comm account. She tapped on the blinking icon to reveal an even odder feature: the message was tagged with the false name she had used on her identicard.

Curious, Bree pulled the chair in closely and opened the comm. A moment later, Blue’s image appeared. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand when she saw his distraught appearance. A timer appeared in the corner of the transmission indicating its three-minute length.

Blue’s image looked into the recorder. “Bree, if you get this, please, you’re in danger and I need to warn you.” The image flickered momentarily as Blue spoke urgently. “When Wells comes back, he’ll be looking for you. You got the better of him and he’ll want revenge. I won’t be there to stop him. You can’t go back to the cargo area. Stay here, in my quarters. You’ll be safe there. When Captain Sia comes back, contact her. She’ll protect you. The codes for her comlink are on my desk.” He shook his head in misery. “I should have hit him when I had the chance. I should never have let you attack him. You would have been safe now if I had acted. I’m so sorry, Bree. I was a coward, too afraid he would file assault charges on me.”

He swallowed hard and continued. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I won’t be coming back to the ship. But I need you to know that I didn’t just leave you. I would never leave you like this.” His voice wavered. “I’ve been arrested again.”

“They think that I stole narcotics from the ship’s pharmacy. You’ve got to know I didn’t do it. But the inventory I signed off to doesn’t match the amount that the ship’s computers say we have. It looks like I’m resupplying more narcotics than the ship needs. Based on my background and my offense, they’re assuming that the reason why I’m replacing more drugs than what the ship says we need is because I’m stealing the excess.”

He pushed back a lock of hair, and Bree was shocked to see that his wrists were locked together with binders. “Someone sliced into the ship’s computers and altered my pharmaceutical records. Someone used my user code and my sign-off signature. It had to be Wells. The day he hit me – it was no coincidence that I was working on a weekly pharmacy inventory. He must have lifted my access codes from my datapad while I was on the ground.” 

He looked downward and shook his head. “But knowing this doesn’t help me now. They told me I’ll be on the next transport. Even if evidence comes in to show I’m innocent, once I’m locked up it won’t matter. Appeals take years. Once I’m on Baroli, it’s over for me.” 

Blue sat back. He closed his eyes for a moment, and his lashes were wet. His voice trembled as he spoke. “They gave me three minutes to make a comm, so I wanted to send this to you, to tell you that you made me happier than I’d been in years. I’ll never forget when you were my Bree. I don’t expect to see you again, so I wanted you to know —“ The timer went to zero and the transmission stopped.

Bree sat there, stunned, unaware of the tears that streamed down her face.


	12. Chapter 12

Bree took a minute to catch her breath. This could not possibly be happening. There had to be a way to solve this. She had to act quickly to get him back, before he was lost for good in the complicated penitentiary system. If only she could prove, definitively, that the records had been altered. But how? The proof was in the ship’s computers. She had to find it in time.

She paused. A memory flashed in her mind, of Bree and her brother Anakin sitting at their computer right next to their babysitter, the greatest slicer who ever lived. She had learned from the best. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. 

She could do this.

*** 

Han Solo and Bel Sia sat across from each other in the station administrator’s office. The administrator, quick to try to impress his unexpected and influential guests, had volunteered his own conference room, and was obsequiously offering unnecessary refreshments to his visitors. Han and Sia had waved the food and drink aside. Captain Sia’s first mate had wisely followed his captain’s example, while the mess officer picked at some snacks. Wells had poured himself a generous glass of whiskey.

“My crew will help you and the Jedi in whatever capacity they can to find her,” Captain Sia told Han, “Although I don’t know why she isn’t with the other refugees. The only way she would have been out of the cargo area would be if someone gave her an access pass.”

“It’s appreciated,” Han said. “And we’ll find her, even if I have to search the ship myself. The sooner I know she’s safe the better.” His attention was diverted by the chirping of his comlink. “Solo here.”

Kyp’s voice crackled over the connection. “I haven’t heard from Kirana yet about Bree, but I’ve got a possible lead on that medic. The good news is that there are no accidents reported or emergency admissions at any of the healer’s offices that match his description. However, once I checked the station security offices, I think I found him.”

“What happened? Was he attacked? Robbed?”

“No, he was arrested this morning. He was shipped off-station on a detention transport about two hours ago. They should be heading to hyperspace very soon, if they haven’t already. After they get in the sector, they’ll transfer him to a local detention transport, and then once he’s on-planet, he goes straight to their main penitentiary for processing. I’d say he has about ten hours left.”

“Wait,” interrupted Captain Sia. “They can do that? Just take him and not inform me?”

“Apparently so,” Kyp answered. “Technically, he’s still under the jurisdiction of the Barolian prison system.”

Han rubbed the back of his neck. “All right, Kyp, this is what we’ll do. I’m going to stay here until Kirana comes back with Breha. You contact Luke. He’s not that far from Baroli. He can intercept the detention transport when it drops out of hyperspace, maybe hold them there until we get this sorted out. Get back here and we’ll regroup.”

“Sounds good. See you soon,” Kyp said. 

Captain Sia shook her head and looked at Han. “I don’t understand what he could have done. I’ve never had a problem with him.”

Han’s response was cut off by the chirp of Captain Sia’s comlink. “Sia here.”

A female voice came through the unit. “Captain, you don’t know me, but my name is Bree Solo. Please hear me out. Blue is –“

“Bree?” Han gestured for the comlink, and Sia handed it to him. “Breha, this is Dad. Where are you?”

“Dad?” Bree’s voice came over the device. “I need your help. I know I did something terribly selfish and I am so, so sorry, but I’m on the Alisander and I’ve got to get to the station right now. Please, come get me – I need to show the authorities something. My friend is in huge trouble.”

“Where are you? Kirana Ti’s been looking all over the ship for you! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Dad. I’m in Blue’s quarters. But please, I need to show you something, and there isn’t much time.”

Captain Sia turned to Han. “Time is running out for all of us. I must attend to the refugees on this ship. We don’t have provisions for them for an extended trip, and they must be at the Tanis refugee camp on time or their transit cards will expire. As much as I wish to help Blue, I have to put the needs of the fifty passengers above the needs of one man. We leave as soon as your daughter is returned, with or without him.”

Wells curled his bandaged hand around his glass and raised his whiskey in salute.

*** 

About ten minutes later, the door to Blue’s quarters chimed. Bree checked the identification screen and smiled in relief. The door slid open and Bree hugged Kirana, who stiffened for a moment before returning the embrace. 

“I am glad I’ve found you,” Kirana said solemnly. “Now get your things and come home to your father.”

Bree had gone back to the computer. “I will, I promise. But I need to finish this first.” She watched the patterns on the screen. “I’m almost done. These are the exit protocols now.”

Bree drew the file onto a datacard and confirmed that it was downloaded, then clutched the datacard to her heart. She got out of the chair and grabbed her jacket from the bed, rushing past Kirana and into the passageway. Kirana threw her hands up in exasperation and followed after her.


	13. Chapter 13

The moment that the Night Cloud completed docking, Bree and Kirana bolted from the ship. Kirana led the way to the station’s executive offices, shoving through the surprised passersby with Bree in her wake. As they climbed a set of stairs, Kirana gestured, and the doors ahead of them obligingly swung open. 

The two women burst into the station administrator’s office. Han stood up and began to approach Bree, who leaned on the conference table, trying to catch her breath. Unable to speak, she reached in her pocket and tossed the datacard onto the table.

“There- there’s the proof that Blue is innocent,” she said, gasping. “He had nothing to do with the falsified pharmacy records. Open it and see.” She collapsed into a chair, her father coming around to stand behind her. 

Captain Sia snatched the datacard and inserted it into the computer. Immediately a collection of data points began streaming on the projected screen in the center of the conference table. “What is this?” she asked, peering intently at the information.

Bree pointed at the projection. “Look at the pharmacy inventories. The first one is from two weeks ago. That’s Blue’s access code, his authorization, his sign-off on the weekly inventories. Look at the log on – that’s Blue’s log-on username and passcode. Everything aligns with Blue.” Bree swiped the screen to make a quick adjustment. “Now here’s the final inventory that was presented to the supply officer at the station. Still Blue’s inventory access code, still his authorization and sign-off, but –“ she highlighted a line “-this is not Blue’s log-on username or his passcode. Someone else got into the computer and then used his codes. This log-on username and this passcode belong to Wells.”

All eyes turned to Wells. He put his whiskey down and sputtered. “Unbelievable! I told you that you couldn’t trust a man like that -- he’s not even a real human. He used my username and passcode! He stole the drugs and tried to blame it on me!”

Bree rose slowly, a dangerous look in her eyes and her voice cold and measured. “No, you bloody kriffing sleemo. Look at the time codes.” She tapped a small icon. “Every computer transaction has a time code. Here is the timecode that marks precisely when the pharmaceutical inventory was altered, the one where you claim that Blue used your passcode and username to hide his theft. Now let’s look at the ship’s security recorders.” She pulled up two images. “Here’s Blue, at that exact time.” An image appeared of Blue, quietly reading in the infirmary. “And here is an image of what you were doing.” A second image appeared, showing Wells sitting at a computer terminal. Bree enhanced the image: the subject on Well’s screen was the pharmacy inventory.

Bree looked at the stunned faces around her. “Blue’s innocent. Wells tried to frame him.” She turned to the station administrator. “Get ahold of that detention transport now. Turn it around. Bring him home.”

The station administrator glanced anxiously at Captain Sia, then at Han and the two Jedi. Han leaned forward. “You heard her order,” he said, his voice rising. “Get the kid back!” The administrator scampered out of the room. 

“One other thing,” Bree said, directing her attention to the Jedi. “Altering official records of controlled narcotics is a crime.” 

She turned to glare at Wells, who found himself suddenly flanked by Kyp Durron and Kirana Ti. “You’ll want to come with us now,” Kyp said quietly, motioning with his right hand.  
Wells put down his drink and rose slowly from his chair. “I think I’ll come with you,” he said. Kyp nodded at Kirana, and they escorted Wells out of the room.

Captain Sia leaned back in her chair, smiling broadly. “You clever girl. You did it.”

***   
Thousands of light years away, across the leap through hyperspace, the planet Baroli grew larger as the prison transport approached. Blue leaned against the black wall of his small dark cell, his eyes closed and his hands cuffed at the wrists. As if he could do anything to fight back– they had kept him in binders since his arrest, he knew, simply as a reminder that they owned him now. 

He was too devastated to even raise his head. The one thing he had clung to for years had been hope: that he could finish his atonement, be forgiven of his offence, return to his society and family, and reclaim his past. More recently, he had the audacity to think he might even have a chance at a future, too, one that included a woman he hadn’t dared to believe could exist. How spectacularly it had all shattered. His hopes seemed like vain foolishness now, a cruel hoax that the gods played on him. There would be no atonement offered this time. The only thing his future offered would be harsh years in prison, his life collapsed to a dark cell like this, and his only company would be the realization that he had failed to protect the person who mattered most to him. Considering what lay ahead, he fatalistically wondered if maybe death would be preferable. 

He heard the dull thud of boots down the metal hall and didn’t bother to turn his head when the footsteps stopped outside his cell door. The door opened and he turned toward the wall, averting his eyes from the glare. Someone entered. 

When Blue didn’t feel rough hands drag him off the bench or hear a sharp command, he finally raised his head high enough to see who the intruder was, shading his eyes from the harsh light with his cuffed hands. His eyes slowly adjusted to reveal a middle-aged human man standing before him. Worn leather boots, black trousers, a gray tunic trimmed in black; light brown hair and blue eyes. A lightsaber hanging from a clip at his waist identified the newcomer as a Jedi.

A small smile tugged at the edge of the Jedi’s lips. “You must be Blue. I’m Luke Skywalker. You’re being released, and I’m here to bring you back to your ship,” he announced.   
Blue didn’t move or reply. “What?” he stammered eventually.

Luke gestured for Blue to get up. When Blue just sat there, uncomprehending and too stunned to move, Luke came over to him. “It’s okay. There’s evidence to exonerate you.”  
Blue felt hope begin to creep into his heart again, but he wouldn’t fall for that twice. He dropped his head and stayed still, convinced that this extraordinary turn of events had to be a hallucination of some sort. This couldn’t possibly be real.

Luke sat on the bench next to him, his hands clasped loosely together. “It’s very real,” Luke said quietly. “Breha figured it out and she proved your innocence.”

Finally, encouraged by the sound of her name, Blue raised his eyes to meet Luke’s. “She’s all right?” Blue asked haltingly.

The Jedi smiled reassuringly. “She’s waiting for you,” Luke answered.

With a motion of Luke’s hand, the binders that locked Blue’s wrists together fell to the floor. Luke stood up and indicated the open doorway with a nod of his head, and Blue slowly got up to follow him.


	14. Chapter 14

Captain Sia, her first mate, and the mess officer had left the station, and the Alisander was under full throttle to make up the time lost on the way to its destination. Kirana and Kyp had gone to the station security offices to process Wells’s arrest. Through the Force’s perfect and mysterious workings, once the ship returned, Wells would be handed over to the same detention transport to which he had so callously condemned Blue. For now, he would wait in a cell at the offices. 

Han and Bree had the conference room to themselves. Bree sat uncomfortably beside her father, who had his elbow on the arm of the chair and his cheek on his fist, and waited for her to speak.

“I know that I messed up, Dad,” she said quietly. “I caused a lot of people a lot of trouble. I’m really sorry.”

Han sighed. “Your mother and I were scared to death. We had no idea where you went. You don’t know what it’s like, how terrifying it is, to think that you might have lost another child.”

She bowed her head. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t think anyone would care so much what I did.”

Han put his arm down and stared at her. “Why in the stars would you say that?”

“Because after Anakin died, nothing seemed to matter. Besides, I felt I wasn’t as important as Jaya or Jace or Anakin were anyway. Compared to them, everything was going a thousand times faster than I could ever keep up.” She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “They were sensitives and I wasn’t, so what good was I? I felt like I’d been shipped off to university to keep me safe, like some defective, fragile thing that would shatter if I ever tried to accomplish anything.” 

Her father placed his hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, your mom and I love you. I never thought you were defective or fragile, and your mother never thought that either. Do you think I didn’t understand how you felt, being a nonsensitive with your mom and Luke and Mara around?”

She reached up to hold his hand. “I felt so alone when Anakin died. I didn’t want to burden you and mom, you two were so sad. I thought if I handled it myself I could fix how I felt. I just miss him so much, Dad.” 

Han sighed. “Me too, Sweetheart.” 

“I know I did the wrong thing. I’m sorry and I know I have to take responsibility for what I did.”

“Just having you back is enough.” Han rubbed her shoulder. His voice grew serious. “Look, kid. We need to talk about this guy.”

“You mean Blue?” she asked. “What about him?"

“I’m not sure you know exactly who he is. He’s got a troubled past.”

Bree took a deep breath. “What information do you have?”

Han shook his head. “Bad trouble. This wasn’t the first time he’s been arrested. He’s been in prison before.”

She took her father’s hand. “I know. He told me.”

“You know he’s a recovering addict, right? That’s something he’ll always have to deal with.”

Bree nodded. “We talked about that. I understand that it’s hard for him.”

Han looked dubious. 

“Dad, I know he made mistakes. But he really is trying to be a better person,” she said.

“Bree, how do you know this isn’t just him trying to use you to fulfill his atonement? You might think he cares but maybe it’s all an act. Sweetheart, are you sure you can trust him?” 

“Yes. Absolutely. Blue has never once lied to me, even when the truth was awful.” She met his eyes. “Dad, I understand him. I’ve seen how alone he feels; I know how he covers it up so as not to be a trouble to anyone else – I recognize it because I do the same thing, too. I’ve seen him the way he sees himself. I know how his troubles have shaped him and how remorseful he is. I don’t need the Force to know his heart.” 

He leaned back and rubbed his face, considering her words, then he smiled crookedly. “The Force, huh. Don’t get me wrong, I loved each of you kids very much, but when you were born and Luke said he couldn’t feel the Force around you, I was thrilled. Finally, a kid who takes after her old man.” He raised an eyebrow. “Of course, this running off at nineteen to get involved with a troublemaker is all your mother.”

Bree’s playful smile turned wistful. “I love him, Dad. And I know that his feelings for me are just as real. I just want him home with me again.”

Han smiled begrudgingly. “So let’s see. Your sister is involved with the son of a baron. Your brother is canoodling with the Queen of Hapes, like we haven’t seen that one coming for years. And you bring home a guy from a detention cell.”

She returned the smile. “I understand you can meet some really nice people in detention cells, Dad.” 

Han sat quietly for a moment, then his tone turned serious. “Breha, you probably saved his life, you know. The first term in a Barolian prison focuses on rehabilitation, but that second one is pure punishment. But you got him back – with no help from me, no government resources, no Jedi mind tricks. Just you. You just might earn your bloodstripes yet, kid.” 

*** 

Hours later, Bree rested, dozing in a comfortable seat on the Night Cloud while Kyp and Kirana lounged in the co-pilot and pilot’s seats. Suddenly, Kirana looked up. “They’re here,” she announced. She pressed the button to open the doors and lower the steps to the ship.

Han roused from his half-sleep in the navigator’s seat while Bree slid her legs out from underneath her and stood up. A moment later, Luke entered the ship with Blue directly behind him. Bree was suddenly wide awake, and she drew a sharp breath. She rushed past her uncle and threw her arms around Blue, who closed his eyes and clung to her as if he were drowning. For that moment, it was as if the rest of the galaxy slid away and it was only the two of them. 

After a few moments, Han, who had gotten up to stand behind her, cleared his throat. Bree turned to Han, one arm still wrapped around Blue’s waist. “Blue, this is my dad. Dad, this is Blue. He’s the ship’s medic from the Alisander.”

Han held out his hand and Blue shook it. Bree continued, “That’s Kirana Ti. She’s another Jedi.” Kirana waved from the pilot’s seat, where she was beginning a pre-flight check. “That’s Jedi Kyp Durron beside her. And you met my uncle already.” 

She looked at Luke in gratitude, then broke away from Blue to embrace her uncle. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Uncle Luke.” 

Luke nodded, returning the hug, then smiled good-naturedly at Bree. “I’m just glad to see you safe,” he said, before stepping away from Bree. He clasped Blue’s shoulder. Then, with a wave, he turned and left to return to his own ship.

The ship’s doors closed and sealed behind Luke. Blue acknowledged everyone, then sat down on the cushioned bench in the passenger section, next to Bree. Once he was sitting beside her, the pent-up stress and tension seemed to visibly begin to dissipate from him. She pulled him closer and lay her head on his shoulder, putting her hand on his chest. “It’s okay now,” she whispered. “You’re home.”

*** 

Within the hour, they had made the ascent to space and had begun pursuing the slower Alisander. No longer needed in the communicator’s position, Han rose from his seat to sit at the dejarik table with Bree and Blue, who had been conversing quietly. He folded his hands on the table while Blue sat up respectfully. Bree waited for her father to speak.

“We need to get some things straightened out here,” Han said quietly. He turned to Blue. “The parole board sent over your case and I’ve read it. But I need to ask you: are you getting any counseling for your drug addiction as part of your parole?”

“I’m supposed to be. I was assigned a public assistance counselor. But there’s a backlog of cases, and I haven’t seen him in about four months.”

“So how do you handle the cravings?” Han asked.

“I have a prescription for a suppressor. And if that isn’t enough to handle it, I usually lock myself in my quarters until I can get it back under control. I’m clean, if that’s what you’re worried about. I haven’t touched spice or alcohol or anything since I did substances rehab in prison five years ago.”

Han shook his head. “Not good enough.” Blue closed his eyes as if in pain and bowed his head. 

Han thought for a moment before speaking. “Seeing a counselor three times a year is not good enough. I’m going to set you up with a private counselor. You need to get more help than that if you’re going to get this under control once and for all.” 

Blue raised his eyes to meet Han’s. “Really?” Han nodded. “Thank you,” Blue said. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“I do know.” Han absently tapped the table with his fingers. “A few years ago, I lost a close friend – my partner. And I didn’t handle it well. I let whiskey get the better of me for a while. It was only through the help of my wife and my brother-in-law that I didn’t fall into that pit myself. I think it’s only right that you shouldn’t have to try to do this on your own either.”

Han turned to Bree. “And as for you, Breha, I’m concerned that you were so far out of touch with everyone that you thought you could leave school and run off and nobody would bother to come find you. This isn’t like you at all. I’m also concerned that you’re still hurting so badly from what happened to Anakin. That’s why, when we get back to Ossus, I want you to see Cighal. I think you should have someone to talk with about how you’re feeling.”

Bree reached under the table to touch Blue’s hand. “Dad, I love you and mom very much, but I don’t think I’m coming back to Ossus. At least not right now.” She took a breath and continued. “I really feel that this is the right path for me. I’m happier than I’ve been in months. I feel alive again. I don’t want to lose that.”

Han was silent for a few moments. Finally he folded his hands and leaned in closer. “Sweetheart, you’ve proven you can take care of yourself. You aren’t a little girl anymore, and you have the right to decide your own life. If this is the path you want to follow, then I can’t deny you that. Just consider what I said. I still want you to talk to a counselor about dealing with your grief.”

“I will, Dad,” she promised.

Han looked at each of them in turn. “This isn’t going to be easy for you two. You think love will fix everything. But life is hard and sometimes love isn’t enough to make things better, especially when there are so many things already challenging you.”

Blue looked at Bree, then back at Han. Under the table, he opened his hand to interlock his fingers with hers. She squeezed his hand in response. “I understand your concern, sir,” he said. “But I think we have our eyes pretty open. And I would do anything to take care of her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m willing to work hard to be what she deserves.”

A small smile traced her lips. “I want to at least try my best,” Bree said. “No one has been more honest or kinder to me.”

Han exhaled loudly. “All right. But if either of you needs help, you comm us immediately. And you –“ He pointed at Bree. “You comm us every week anyway. We love you. We need to know you’re safe.” He spread his hands out on the table. “Well. I’m glad we had this little chat. Now to tell your mother that after all this, I’m coming home without you. Let’s hope she doesn’t decide to use my head for saber practice.”

*** 

Harsh winds picked up and blew around Bree and Blue as they stood together at the shuttle dock at Tanis. Bree checked the chrono on the wall; Blue’s shuttle would be returning for his outbound trip too soon. They had only a few minutes left to say goodbye before he shipped out. She shivered against the cold, and he rubbed her arm to warm it.

“Captain Sia’s offer still stands, you know,” Blue said, his breath forming clouds as he spoke. “You’ve more than proven yourself.”

She shook her head. “No, I want to stay here at the aid office, to help Alta and Tara and all the others just like them.” She looked away and glanced at the refugee community. Hundreds of prefabricated dwellings, like rows of bricks, lined the makeshift street. “This is what I was meant to do, I think. Listen to them and speak for them. Fight for them the best I can.”

“They won’t have a more caring advocate,” he said. He pulled her closer and touched the necklace that hung around her neck. She smiled, then wrapped her hand around his.  
“Promise you’ll comm me when you make it to the first substation,” she said.

“I promise,” he said. “I’ll see you in about two months when we swing by again. Promise you’ll wait for me.” 

“I promise I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait a hundred years if I have to.” 

They held each other quietly, memorizing the details of each other. For now, the memory would have to do. He leaned in, his lips on hers. “My Bree,” he whispered. “My own Bree.” He kissed her again, gently. 

To say it aloud would be to make it real. To speak the words would be to dare to allow hope into his life again, with all the risk of loss that hope brought with it. Blue looked into her dark eyes and caressed her cheek with his hand, twisting the ends of her hair in his fingertips. He took a deep breath. “I love you, Bree. I love you so much.”

Bree rested her head on his shoulder and remembered how, even in Blue’s darkest hour, his concern had been for her. She thought about the countless kindnesses he had given to her, the unspoken devotion of his gentle touch and his compassionate actions. His heart was true, and his heart was hers. She looked up at him and smiled crookedly. “I know.” 


	15. Epilogue

Eight Years Later.

 

Bree sat on a small bench, raising her face occasionally to catch a cooling breeze in tropical heat of the southern Barolian main continent, in the city by the ocean where Blue grew up. There was little shade, but she didn’t mind. She brushed her long brown hair out of her face and tucked the strands behind her ear. Every few moments she glanced in the direction of the entrance to the Central Office of Corrections. Other people sat in the same courtyard by the entrance, probably waiting for the same thing, she surmised. 

A little girl about four years old came up to her, bearing a flimsy decorated with brightly colored shapes. “Here you go, Mommy,” the child said. 

Bree leaned down and took the drawing from her. “That’s lovely, Lelila.” Bree smiled and placed the flimsy in a folder already holding at least five other pictures. “He’ll like that one, too.”

The child, Lelila, smiled brightly, her indigo eyes shining in merriment. She spun around and her blue-streaked brown hair swung like shimmersilk behind her. “I’m gonna draw another one,” she announced, grabbing a fresh flimsy. She climbed back onto her bench and with great seriousness proceeded to make colorful, inscrutable marks on the sheet.  
Bree looked up at the entrance again and caught her breath. The door opened as a Barolian man, his shoulder-length blue hair tied at the nape of his neck, exited. The man scanned the courtyard until he saw Bree, and then he smiled.

Bree leaned over to Lelila. “Look who’s here, Sweetheart,” she said, pointing to the man.

The child looked up from her drawing, and her face broke into a brilliant smile. “Daddy!” she shrieked. Her drawing forgotten, she jumped from her bench and ran into the man’s open arms. He swooped her up and hugged her tightly.

Bree walked over to Blue and stood beside him, waiting for Lelila’s excited greeting to subside. Blue freed one arm and raised his hand to touch Bree’s face. She leaned into his open palm. “My girls. And you, my own true Bree,” he said, emotion cracking his voice.

Bree moved into the arc of his arm and kissed his cheek gently, savoring the nearness of him. “Welcome home, Ryoki,” she replied, using the name so long denied him. “My own true Blue.”


End file.
